The morning after (all that happened because of a hot kiss)
by Annemarie01
Summary: A not intended sequel to a not intended sequel to An Unexpected Kiss. In short: Part 3


**Alright, apparently I misunderstood the intention. The request was about the reactions on the morning after the steaming night. Well, nomadka, here it goes ... the story of the morning after with of course my own twitch. I hope you like this attempt!**

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The morning after ... (all that happened because of a hot kiss and the consequences)

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Hawke got drawn out of her sleep because of the soft yet disturbing sound of patting feet restlessly pacing the room. She got up, a little groggily, and immediately missed the warmth of a body next to her. To be exact the body of the mindboggling handsome and overwhelming elf that had made incredible love to her last night in the most amazing and dazzling way. She ran short on superlatives.

She was just in time to see Fenris thumping the wall. Again. And he was dressed. That was not a good sign. Nothing about the scene was good. He ought to be lying next to her in glorious nudity, only dressed in his lyrium markings, nuzzling her, fondling her or at least being asleep with his arms around her. The grogginess dissolved in an instant and was replaced by nasty little icy fingers that plucked at her innards. She covered herself with a blanket, not just to hide her own nudity but also because she suddenly grew very cold.

'What's wrong?'

He turned sharply, evidently startled by her voice. His moon-like hair fell into his face and he wiped it out of his eyes with an impatient gesture. 'You're awake,' he stated the obvious. His voice sounded alarmingly strained; the rough velvet had descended a few notches on the staff of sensuality and was definitely bathing in dark sugar right now. It could have aroused her if the circumstances had been different.

'Yes I am,' she said carefully, 'but that's not an answer to my question.'

Fenris screwed his eyes shut and pressed his lips. He was visibly struggling with his answer. 'It's – ' he started and failed miserably. He swallowed and tried anew. 'My memories returned.'

She stared at him, not exactly understanding, or better not understanding at all, or better even not _willing_ to understand what he meant. Especially if it led to this behaviour. 'Your memories ..?'

He opened his eyes. 'The memories from before the markings. You know I lost everything. And last night it all suddenly came back to me.' He paused. She was about to say that she missed the sincerity of this since as long as she knew him he wanted to have those memories back, when he continued, 'And then they escaped me.' She closed her already opened mouth and he took a shivering breath. 'I saw ... I heard ... everything ... and then nothing.' He looked like a reflection of utter and total misery. 'Nothing. It was gone. I don't know why this happened, it never did before.'

Her heart bled when she looked at his tormented face. 'And now?' she asked in a very small voice, dreading the worst up forehand. And she was right.

'I can't go on with this,' he whispered, 'I so badly want to but I can't. The thought I'll have to cope with this ordeal every time I, we –' She thought he would break down in tears. 'It's just too much. Please forgive me.' He averted his eyes and stared at his feet.

She hung her head, forcefully trying to fight back the tears that threatened to overflow her eyes. She clenched her fists into the blanket.

'I knew I was dreaming,' she said with a choked voice, 'it was too good to be true. I only wished I really woke up alone in my own bed instead of being punched in the gut.'

'Shit,' she heard him mutter and then he moved to the bed. She could feel him standing nearby, damn, she could _smell_ it. That tantalising scent of wild forest and sun stroked earth came wafting to her and surrounded her, adding to her dismay. He didn't sit down however, he kept his distance. He actually extended his hand to touch her but changed his mind the very moment. His arm dropped. 'I'm so sorry Hawke; I never wanted to hurt you. But I really can't do this.'

She hid her face in her pulled up knees and stifled a desperate sob.

And then a sudden flare of anger struck her. With a jerk she heaved her head and looked at him with burning eyes. He was so shocked by this abrupt change of demeanour he instinctively took two steps back. She looked as if she was about to tear his throat out.

'You complete and utter idiot!' she seethed, 'You gave me the best experience of my life and I will call you a liar if you didn't feel the same on your behalf and because of your fucking memories you're willing to deny that the both of us?! You must be out of your bloody mind! Instead of thinking about the advantages of _and_ making love with me _and_ getting your memories back at the same time, you bask in self-pity regardless of my feelings and at the same time you squander yours!'

He wanted to react but she cut him short before he could utter a word.

'Shut up! I don't want to hear your stupid arguments!'

He was so intimidated by her large flaming eyes and low threatening voice he snapped his mouth shut and took another step back.

'Do you think you are the only one here haunted by memories? I damn well know the ones you have are awful. I have some of myself. Do I have to remind you of the dreadful death of my siblings, of the horrible death of my mother? I ever so often wished I could get rid of those and I bet you do the same when you remember that gruesome Magister of yours and his as evil apprentice and what they did to you.' She stopped to take in a gulp of breath but he didn't dare to interrupt her rant. He just stared at her. Mesmerised.

'And now other memories pop up, memories from before your predicament and times of agony, memories of times you think must have been happy. Why? They can as well turn out to be even worse than the ones you have. You just long for something better. You want to convince yourself that your life before Danarius happened was all sunshine, roses and butterflies.'

This time he desperately wanted to interrupt her but she already had heaved her hand and that didn't give him the chance. Besides that his voice didn't operate. 'Yes, I know what you want to say. For bad or good, you want to know who your parents were, if you had a brother or sister. What they looked like. If they were slaves. Where you lived, if you were born as a slave or as a free man. And believe me, I understand those are important questions. But are they important enough to leave me? To ignore the love you feel for me? Te reject me?'

And now he couldn't even find words. Mostly because she had perfectly described how he felt. He just stuck with staring at her. And yes, still mesmerised. It would have been better if she had yelled at him; yelling he could have handled. But instead she spoke in that low gravelly tone that paralyzed him and nailed him down.

'You have a choice here,' she resumed with that hypnotizing dark husky voice, 'you can fuck me senseless and take the risk of regaining the pieces of your past and losing them at the same time or be a total jackass and lose also _me_ because of your obsession. And who knows, by keeping fucking me senseless you will gather in the end all of those pieces and be content or completely unhappy with the result. _You have a choice, _you damned moron. Don't go and throw it all away!'

She stopped talking and heroically swallowed back her tears because tears wouldn't make him see her point of view.

For a few long stretched moments he just stood, trying to regain his wits, trying to make sense of the turmoil in his head her words had caused. He fought a fierce battle with himself, hesitating about what to do. He absolutely didn't want her to go and the last thing he wished was to hurt her. On the other hand he was afraid he would completely break down when those blasted memories would pester him once more. And then she started to leave the bed and he acted without further thinking. He took a quick step forward and it was as if he broke through a barrier. He hurled himself onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. This woman that so perfectly had put his dreads and desires into words and at the same time had made her feelings for him very clear didn't deserve to be abandoned. He didn't want to abandon her, hadn't want to in the first place. Before she could start talking again and strip his feelings and fears to the bone once more, he covered her mouth with his.

She gasped and at first couldn't react. But then she answered the kiss, clinging on to his frame as a drowning person.

'You are right,' he whispered, 'I am a fool and I don't want to lose you. It would be a double loss.'

She was too overwhelmed with relief and too busy with undressing him to respond properly. The only thing she could manage was a kind of appreciating grumble while she was tearing his shirt and sinfully sexy leggings of his body. But when she had got him naked again and he made a serious effort of putting his hands on every part of her body at once, she suddenly hesitated and drew back.

He looked up from the nipple he was devouring. 'Now _you_ are getting seconds thoughts ..?' His heart plummeted into his stomach.

'No,' she panted, 'but I want you to make this decision without me shouting at you. Perhaps you should think it over more thoroughly. I want you – out of your own – oh hell.' His mouth had moved to the crook in her shoulder and he gave her a heated lovebite that shot hot bolts to her centre. 'You didn't shout,' he murmured.

'Please Fenris, if you think you need time –'

He attacked her mouth to silence her. 'I don't need time, I need you.'

When they slowly started to wake up, three days later, they were more or less surprised they had ended up in his bed. It had been three wonderful days – and nights, filled with lovemaking, quick simple meals, lovemaking, some bottles of wine, lovemaking, a few inevitable catnaps, lovemaking and after that more lovemaking. The bed was all but ruined, the floor was littered with cushions, blankets, empty bottles and leftovers; the side table in the hall was badly molested and Hawke knew they sooner or later had to clean up the mess in the kitchen after they had been making hot love on the cold stove, on the sink and the kitchen table, scattering plates and cups and pots all around. A broad grin appeared on her face at the lively picture in her head.

She tried to move but their bodies were so entangled it was a hard job to puzzle out which limb belonged to whom and how to free any of them. She gave up. She felt worn down, battered and bruised and was certain she wouldn't be able to walk properly for quite a time. And she felt rosy and warm and absolutely, utterly, insanely happy. She nuzzled Fenris's neck. 'What time would it be?' she wondered drowsily.

He didn't bother with heaving his head. 'I don't even know what day it is,' he mumbled, 'and you know what, I don't care.' She giggled and tickled his throat with her breath. She planted a kiss on his skin and softly nibbled his ear.

'Hmm,' he hummed, 'do that again.' He lazily lifted a hand and tenderly caressed her arm and back.

'Do you think we could manage to make some coffee?' she asked.

'No,' Fenris said determinedly, 'I won't be able to make it to the kitchen.'

'Right. No coffee then.'

'I can offer you some wine. That is if I could reach the bottle. Which I cannot.'

'Just leave it,' she murmured.

His memories had returned and vanished again several times. He hadn't want to tell her, but of course she had sensed it. She had just listened to his stumbled words and kissed his tension away. He had to admit that now he was prepared, the experience was less overwhelming than the first time when it caught him completely by surprise. He still couldn't grasp why it happened at all, though sure but slow he began to suspect it had something to do with Hawke, with his feelings for her. As far as he knew he had never been in love before, not in the strong passionate way he cared for her. He had denied that for a long time or maybe it was better to say he hadn't recognized it. Until yesterday, until she saved his life and he showed his gratitude by almost killing her. Until he lost his control with that sweltering kiss. Only then he had realised he was madly in love with her. He turned his head to look at her. Under the mess of tousled hair her face glowed with warm bliss and contentment. It made him think of a purring cat lying in the warm sunlight.

She cracked one eye open. 'What? Why are you smiling like you're about to do something totally inappropriate?' she asked suspicious.

'More inappropriate than what I've done the past days? No my love. I smile because you look absolutely adorable.' He kissed the tip of her nose.

'Yeah right; hair like a birds nest, I bet that stupid stove left its soot on my bottom if not on the rest of my body and on the whole I'm in desperately need of a bath. I dread what my image in a mirror looks like. Really adorable.' She snickered against his chest. And then "my love" got through. Her eyes flew open. _My love?Had he really said that?_

'Did I say something wrong?' He suddenly sounded concerned.

'You didn't say anything wrong. You said "my love",' she breathed.

He chortled softly and cupped her face. 'Your angry rant was a real eye-opener For the first time since I can remember I find my life makes sense and I am glad to live it. As long as you stay in it.'

'That's the sweetest thing someone ever said to me,' Hawke whispered, deeply moved.

His lips descended on her mouth. With some difficulties they managed to disentangle their bodies only to entwine them in another way. Again.

* * *

'Love?'

'Hmm?'

'Are you still alive?'

'I think so. Why?'

'Will you still be alive tomorrow?'

'That depends; what are you planning?'

'Loving you like mad.'

'Oh. Good. Wake me up when you're up to that.'

'I will.'

'Capital.'

'And after that a bath.'

'Definitely.'

And finally they both fell into a deep sleep, completely exhausted but intensely gratified.

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**I hope, my dear nomadka, this was more like what you had in mind ...**


End file.
